death and his maiden
by triangles
Summary: He could feel her pulse shooting like shards of lightning, proof that she was alive at his literal fingertips. Annabeth's eyes were glossy, either with unshed tears or something else, he didn't know. "Are you afraid, girl?" he whispered. Annabeth shook her head to the best of her ability. "I'm not- I'm not afraid," she whispered back. "I'm not afraid."


**death and his maiden**

~oOo~

"_There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights_" - Bram Stoker

~oOo~

It was a humdrum job, he supposed, but it was a necessary one. With his Book in hand, he stepped through the portal and out into the sky, wings wide open. He plummeted towards the sea before spreading them wide and coasting over the bay, drifting with the gentle breeze. He hid behind a cloud and looked over the town below that was lit with a synthetic glow that made his eyes burn. He was bewildered by why the humans chose to forsake the milky white light of the stars for their garish inventions of wire and electricity.

But, ultimately, it was of no consequence to him. In the end, he would steal them in his arms, sometimes with a gentle embrace and sometimes rending their souls from their bodies as they screamed. Either way, it didn't really matter to him so long as the job was done, and if there was anything to be said about him, it was that he was _very_ good at his job. He quite liked his job. Humans had an amusing habit of revealing themselves right before their deaths. Some went with him calmly, many screaming, but all ignorant. The elderly often knew in their bones when he would visit them, but they could never know for certain.

There were others like him, angels of death that is. Some of them were kind to the humans, mostly out of pity. Some were a little more efficient, but it was known that he was a little bit of an anomaly. He was ruthless, sadistic some might say. He enjoyed the ones that screamed most. His existence was rather dull, and there was little in the form of entertainment other than stealing away human souls. If he was being honest, Percy would tell you that he didn't really understand humans all that well, but he certainly knew them more intimately than most.

Finally, he reached the house he was looking for, but before he slipped inside, he consulted his Book out of habit. Finding her name on the list, he confirmed that he was indeed at the right place for the right person, and so he stole inside with a gentle smile upon his lips. The gossamer curtains fluttered imperceptibly as he brushed past them. He took in the sparsely decorated room and zeroed in on the four-poster bed sitting all alone in the middle of the room.

Funny. She wasn't here.

He wasn't one to miscalculate. He'd done this job since the dawn of time, and while he was a little more reckless than most, he was still very good at what he did. Maybe he was just getting tired with the workload he'd been shouldering lately. The increasing human population had meant that he'd been busier and busier as time went by. He rarely got to spend time in the Other Place anymore, what with his time being sucked into staying in the mortal world with ever increasing frequency. His essence ached for some reprieve from the constricting quality of the mortal world.

The other angels would make fun of him if they heard of this, losing his human, he thought sourly. Fluttering about her room, he attempted to locate her, his frustration mounting. Where the hell was she? He'd make sure to torment her soul right before he ripped it out of her body. Damn humans, making his job more difficult. Master would not be happy if he got behind schedule.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he whispered to himself.

It was then that he heard a whimpering sound coming from a room adjacent. With the kind of grace typically associated with a predatory cat, he slipped through the walls and found himself in a bathroom. He took in the situation in the expanse of a second - a silver knife suspended above pale wrists, glittering tears streaming down an alabaster face, and a delicious look of pain upon a sickly face. His hand moved quicker than his thoughts could form, and he stopped the blade before it pierced her skin. In hindsight, he supposed that it was her youth that had led to him staying her hand. She still had so much to live for, barely at the prime of her ephemeral existence. It would have been a sin to take her life that early, now wouldn't it?

She turned towards him instantly and opened her mouth to scream. His hand clapped over her mouth and deadened all sound, and despite her thrashing about, his grip was iron. He leaned into her and whispered in her ear, "Be still."

In an instant, she froze, and crows feet peeked from her scrunched, quizzical eyes. She was still crying, he noted. For a few silent seconds, he pondered his next course of action. He had made a serious infraction of Law by saving the girl. The natural course of events would have been for her to commit suicide and for him to take her soul after. Instead, he'd made himself corporeal and stopped her from doing so. He wasn't supposed to have defied the Book. His feral, green eyes locked onto her silvery ones, still wet with unshed tears.

She was beautiful in a sickly sort of way, he decided. He lessened his grip on her to allow her to move her head, but not make enough audible noise to alert anyone. "If I release you, will you promise not to scream?" he whispered.

There was pregnant pause before she nodded tentatively. "Good," he murmured, loosening his hold on her. She rubbed her chin subconsciously and continued to stare at him, asking an unspoken question. "What are you?" she asked, a curious wonder in her eyes.

He coughed to himself. "In trouble," he said simply before changing the topic. "You were going to kill yourself."

Her eyes widened comically, and she stammered out some unintelligible excuse, so he grabbed her by the chin and forced her to stare into his eyes. He let loose an iota of his power to scare her into submission. The effect was nearly instantaneous. She saw hellfire in his eyes, and she felt an electric power that made her skin crawl unpleasantly. "You were going to kill yourself," he repeated.

This time, she nodded after another pause. Percy smiled despite himself. He was glad that she could acknowledge it. "What's your name, _girl_?" he asked, still holding her chin in his hands.

Her eyes bored into his, and he felt himself shiver. He hadn't talked to a human like this since the Renaissance. She was a slight girl with an anemic complexion that he found intoxicating. There was something about sickness that an angel of death found strangely seductive. Her golden blond hair was naturally curled and lie plastered to her forehead with sweat. His hypersensitive hearing made it possible to her the gentle descent of her thundering heartbeat.

"Annabeth," she said softly, fearfully. "What's yours? Who are you?"

"Percy," he said, "and I'm your guardian angel."

~oOo~

For the next few weeks, he watched the girl, waiting for another archangel to come find him. He was sure to get reprimanded, but he wanted to make sure that Annabeth didn't do anything rash either, otherwise his moment of indiscretion would have been for naught. He'd saved her life for a reason even if it was on accident. It was odd for him to get that sentimental, especially over a human, but he chose not to think about it. That was his general philosophy: if it's disturbing, ignore it.

He sat on the window sill a fortnight later when Ulysial arrived before him. Out of all the archangels, he wanted to see Ulysial the least. She was just too much of a show-off. "Azazel," she purred, using his Olde name. Percy made a face. He hated being called by it. It seemed so antiquated to him, even if death was a constant.

"Ulysial," he muttered. "Nice to see you, as always."

She made a show of giggling, which just irritated him further. "Oh, you spoil me as always, Azazel," she said, slinking up next to him. Percy resisted the urge to go somewhere else, but he made his displeasure known by letting loose a little bit of his power.

Ulysial's eyes widened slightly before she showed him a toothy smile. "Mm, are you trying to seduce me, darling?" she cooed. When he snorted, she said, "Overcompensating then."

He resisted the urge to strangle her. "As much as I enjoy our little talks, I have better things to do with my time like stabbing myself in the eye," he fired back.

She chuckled before becoming serious. "Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a twist. Here's the short of it: Master is not happy. The girl should have killed herself a fortnight ago, yet you stopped her. Why?" Ulysial asked.

Percy shrugged in a manner that he hoped was nonchalant. He had to play his cards carefully or he would incur Master's wrath, and that would be a most unpleasant experience. "It was a moment of indiscretion on my part, and I claim full responsibility. However, I felt that the girl deserved more time. She would have killed herself prematurely," he explained.

"Hmm, is that so? You know the Book makes no accidents. If it said the girl was supposed to die, then she was supposed to die. You have no right to interfere with the processes of life and death. I just think you're going a little soft," she prodded. Percy narrowed his eyes and stared at her balefully.

"Don't lecture me, Ulysial," he growled, louder now that he was irritated.

"Hello?" Annabeth said, peeking out from her window. Seeing Percy sitting there with another archangel, she blinked once or twice. "Oh, hello. Are you a friend of Percy's?" she asked naively.

Ulysial looked from the girl to Percy, then back to the girl, then back to Percy. A terrifying smile slowly slid across her face before she teleported next to Annabeth, clutching her chin in a vise like grip. Annabeth's eyes widened as Ulysial showed her fanged grin. The archangel closed her eyes and smelled the girl like she was a meal. "Oh, delicious, simply delicious," she whispered to herself before turning to Percy.

"Azazel, can you smell it? She's so afraid and miserable - she's simply delectable. _I could just eat her up_," she cooed.

Annabeth gave Percy a sidelong glance, beseeching him to intervene. "Leave her alone, Ulysial," he said, trying to sound bored.

When she released her, Percy looked at Annabeth. "Leave us," he said. The blonde nodded her head furiously and quickly left.

Ulysial slid back to him, looking very much like the cat that ate the canary. "I can see why you let her live. She's too miserable to kill, isn't she?" she taunted.

Percy felt his jaw tighten involuntarily. "Shut up," he said, and she laughed in response.

"You're so adorable! Anyhow, I'd best be going. Master wants me to let you know that he's quite displeased with you. You'll just have to kill her yourself some other time, the sooner the better. Sound good? Toodles," she spoke quickly before disappearing. Percy blinked once or twice in confusion. What the hell was he going to do?

~oOo~

Percy followed Annabeth to school, floating behind her with his Book in hand. He enjoyed looking at all the kids and knowing exactly when it was that they were going to die. Annabeth seemed to enjoy being by herself, and most of the kids steered clear of her when she walked past. Some people made fun of her behind her back, but he didn't know if she could hear them. He didn't really understand what it was all about. He could tell that Annabeth's feelings were hurt since he could smell her emotions. She wore sadness like perfume, and Percy had never smelled anything more intoxicating.

He wondered what it would be like to be sad. It seemed like such an alien concept to him. All he could experience was tiredness, irritation, and amusement, but not much else when he really thought about it. Annabeth looked over her shoulder at him. "Are you just going to follow me all day?" she asked.

"Yup," he said simply. Annabeth pulled a face, brushing her curls out of her eyes. "Why, does my presence bother you?" he asked.

"No, not really," she said. "I'm just worried that someone else will be able to see you. That's all."

Percy laughed a little. "If they can, it's because they're going to die soon, which doesn't make much of a difference anyways, now does it?" he replied.

Annabeth had nothing to say about that, so she walked on in silence. They went through her classes, which interested Percy to no end. He enjoyed her calculus class the most. Humans were so quaint, inventing their own disciplines and studying the world in their own way. During lunch, Annabeth sat at her own lunch table, balefully chewing on a sandwich she'd brought from home. Percy chose to float behind her and make observations. It was interesting how the students congregated in isolated groups, seeking familiarity. He tried to place Annabeth in a group but found that task was beyond him.

The blonde stood up to through her food away into the garbage can, and on the way there, someone tripped her, sending her sprawling. Percy sat back at the table and watched the spectacle unfold. Annabeth stood up shakily and walked on to the garbage can like there was nothing wrong, and the cafeteria burst into snickers. Percy could tell that she was just putting on a brave face. He waited for Annabeth until she sat back down at the table and quickly packed her belongings. They walked together in stifling silence.

~oOo~

Every night, Percy had taken to looking up at the stars. They were so fantastical to him. He'd sit on the window sill of Annabeth's bedroom all night, and he'd just watch the stars. But one night, Percy had gotten a little bored, and he'd floated into her bedroom and Annabeth was thinking the most impossible things. It was interesting in a way that he couldn't describe. She thought of all these things - lobster men, future husbands, her father leaving her forever, and many more things - and none of them were the slightest bit real. It had taken all of his willpower not to wake her up right that second to ask what was going on. The next morning, when he asked her, she'd blushed a little and said she was _dreaming_.

Percy was enthralled. He didn't know what that meant. He asked her to explain a little bit more, and the more that Annabeth spoke about it, the more it confused and fascinated him. Apparently, humans imagined the wildest things, even created entire worlds that they could escape to, in their _sleep_. He was an archangel of immense power, but the one power he did not have was the power to _create_.

One night, Percy was sitting out on the window sill looking up at the stars, and Annabeth had roused herself from her sleep. He'd been looking at the stars and eavesdropping on her dreams, and it had put him into this sort of trance like stage that he'd never experienced before. When Annabeth prodded him, it had shattered and he was left with this feeling that he couldn't quite describe. Later, he'd learn that it was called longing.

"What are you doing?" Annabeth asked him.

He shrugged and look up again, staring at the stars twinkling in the blackness. "Just looking at the stars," he lied.

Annabeth leaned against the sill, folding her arms and staring up at them. "There's so many of them," she said.

Percy looked at her, and for the first time, he saw her eyes shining with wonder. It seemed to brighten her whole face and make her age backwards. It made her seem timeless, more immortal than he was, he mused. "There are," he agreed, and a comfortable silence enveloped them.

"What's it like?" Annabeth asked suddenly.

"What's what like?" he replied.

"Where ever it is that you come from? What's it like? Do you have stars? Do you like it?" she asked in rapid-fire succession.

Percy chuckled to himself before sighing. "You sure do ask a lot of questions," he said, making her blush. "I come from the Other Place. It's awful there. I can't really describe it. We don't have stars or light at all for that matter, and, no, I do not like it all that much, but it's still home."

Annabeth nodded to herself, saying, "Yeah, that makes sense. Sometimes, it feels like Earth really sucks, but it's still home, you know. The universe is just so big and there are so many stars and it makes me wonder."

"About what?" he asked.

She shrugged to herself absent-mindedly. "About what's out there, about what's here, and what's in between. I wonder about the things that are, the things that were, the things that will be. I wonder about change and about constants. I wonder about existence. I think about all the things that I don't know about, things that I will never know about, and it makes me feel large."

"But you're so small. Everything you just talked about makes you smaller and smaller until you become so small you disappear. You're so insignificant," Percy wanted to say, but he held his tongue. Instead, he settled for saying, "You're interesting, Annabeth."

~oOo~

"Hey, Percy?" Annabeth asked on the way to school one day.

Percy hummed in response, inviting her to continue. "What happens to us- I mean humans after we die?" she asked.

He looked at her and saw her eyebrows furrowed as she held onto the straps of her backpack so tightly they made her skin turn bone white. "I don't really know. That's Master's domain. I just deliver your souls, but I don't know what happens to them," he said, shrugging.

"Oh," she said quietly. "Well, what's your Master like?"

This took him a little while to think about. He'd met Master before, but it had been so long ago, he could scarcely remember. It struck him that he had forgotten what Master looked like. Master wasn't really the kind of entity that you'd want to meet. All he knew was that Master was in charge of the Other Place and commanded the archangels to steal the souls of dead humans. He didn't really know what it was that Master did with them. In the vague crags of his memory, he knew that Master had authored the Book, inscribing the name of every human being there ever was, is, and would be with the date that they would eventually die. He bestowed each of his servants with a chapter of the book, and he was always writing more pages as more humans continued to be born.

"Master is ineffable. He's a force like gravity, I can't really describe him. He's a result, I guess," he explained.

"Have you ever met him?" Annabeth asked.

Percy nodded. "Yeah, I met him during a different time, before life itself had yet to begin. I don't really remember much about him."

For a while, Annabeth remained thoughtfully silent, until she asked, "Do you think I'll ever get to meet him?"

At this, Percy laughed. "We must all meet the Master in the end. There's no need to rush."

~oOo~

Annabeth sat at the piano and began to play one night when the moon was so large in the sky, Percy was convinced it would rupture like a water balloon. He wondered what would pour out of the moon. The archangel was sitting outside, staring up at the stars, when she began to play. The tinkling music filled the house, and Percy froze. In an instant, he flew beside her. Annabeth didn't even stop playing. Percy was certain he would have scared her with his sudden entrance.

"What are you doing, girl?" he asked, mystified.

She looked up and shrugged, her fingers dancing across the expanse of ivory keys. "I'm playing music."

"Music?" Percy asked, tasting the way the word sounded in his mouth, relishing it. He enjoyed the way it smoothly slid off his tongue like the feeling of sucking on an ice cube. Annabeth gave him a curious look, and she stopped playing to turn towards him.

"You've never heard music before?" she asked.

Percy shook his head. "What is it?" he asked.

Annabeth sat silently for a long time, deep in thought. Percy could see her mind struggling to quantify it. "It's like, the sounds our souls make, I think," she said pensively.

The blank stare that Percy gave her was more than enough information that she should elaborate. Blushing, she continued, "It's making manifest what we feel inside so that others can feel it too. Music can make people if the one playing is happy, and it can make people sad if the one playing is sad. It's a medium of communication in the most honest way we know how, I suppose."

"Can you teach me how to play?" he asked her.

She nodded and motioned for him to sit beside her. They began with simple scales, and Percy quickly caught a grasp of all the notes after he regained composure long enough for his hands to stop shaking. Then they started playing chords, understanding how notes could be layered upon one another to create harmonies and how others created dissonance. He learned of thirds, fifths, and minor seconds. He learned everything that Annabeth could teach him.

That next week, Percy stayed at home as she went to school. Alone in the house, Percy began to tear through her sheet music. He went quickly from rudimentary nursery rhymes to medium level pieces that followed etude structures to Mozart and Rachmaninov by the end of the week. Percy enjoyed requiems the most, and for very obvious reasons. They were so deliciously human, filled with so much pain and longing. Out of the spectrum of human emotion, Percy could understand pain the easiest. Pain wasn't something he'd ever experienced, but it was something he understood. No one liked having things taken away from them regardless of their immortality or lack thereof.

One day, as he was paging through sheet music, looking for something new to play, he stumbled upon something that Annabeth seemed to have written. Percy's eyes widened in amusement - Annabeth was composing. He played whatever it was that she had written down so far, but frowned when the piece ended midway through its development. Percy took a pencil and decided to finish the piece himself.

Annabeth came home after school that day and found Percy sitting so still in front of the piano that he looked statuesque. "Percy?" she asked, venturing into the room.

Her voice seemed to break his trance and he stirred before turning towards her. A slight furrow in his eyebrows told her that he was somewhat puzzled. "I can't do it," he said simply.

"Can't do what?" Annabeth asked.

Percy held up his hands in surrender and said, "I can't compose. I tried to finish your piece, but I couldn't think of anything to write."

Annabeth sat besides him, blushing, and said, "I'll try to ignore how upset I am with you for nosing your way into my original work. It's not for other people to see, you know. Ever heard of privacy?" she asked. Percy answered with a blank stare, which made her roll her eyes. "Fine, I'll let it slide. I guess that's strange because you're better at playing than I am, right?"

For a long while, Percy was silent until a gleam entered his eyes, and he whispered, "Of course, only humans have the power to _create_."

~oOo~

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Annabeth asked one day as they were walking on the beach.

Percy gave her a sidelong glance, thinking of how he should phrase his next words. "I've been ordered to kill you, yes," he replied.

Annabeth shook her head and stopped to look at him. "That's not what I asked you. I asked if you were going to kill me," she asked again.

The defiance in her tone threw Percy for a loop. He wasn't sure exactly what that meant. It wasn't like he'd asked himself the same question a thousand times already. Percy was, first and foremost, a servant, and a servant did his master's bidding. If you'd asked him even two weeks ago, he'd tell you that he'd snap that girl's neck if you gave him a klondike bar, but now- now he wasn't so sure. It wasn't that he liked Annabeth per se; he simply found her interesting enough to stick around with. Besides, like he had first thought: it would be such a waste to let her die so young.

"I'm not sure," he answered.

Annabeth pulled a face and looked down at the ground for a few seconds before looking up at him again. "You're not sure?" she asked.

Percy felt a frisson of irritation run through him. "Don't make me repeat myself, _girl_. Do you want me to kill you?" he challenged.

"Well, if you hadn't noticed, I was trying to kill myself that first night when you stopped me," she argued.

"If you want to die so much, why didn't you try again?" he shouted.

At this, Annabeth's expression turned to one of befuddlement. "I-I don't know," she murmured. It took a second before her eyes widened and she stared at him in understanding. "Well, shit."

~oOo~

Percy ran a hand through his hair nervously. Ulysial had dropped by while Annabeth was at school, stating blandly that Master was not happy with him. He was concerned when Ulysial didn't even make any snide remarks; he figured Master must be _very_ angry. He tried to ignore the words ringing in his ears since Ulysial's visit.

_Kill her soon or I'll do it myself._

Annabeth came into the room, and she set her bags down gingerly. "It's time, isn't it?" she asked.

Her voice was perfectly neutral, filled with neither excitement nor resentment, and Percy genuinely didn't know what to make of it. All he knew was that he didn't want to kill her. Annabeth had grown on him, sort of imperceptibly like a weed or something of the sort. Percy supposed that in the end, she was going to die anyways, and that the only difference would be whether he got into trouble or not. He had no wish to incur the wrath of Master.

With a grace typically associated with large predatory cats, Percy slinked over to Annabeth and wrapped his fingers loosely around her neck. He could feel her pulse shooting like shards of lightning, proof that she was alive at his literal fingertips. Annabeth's eyes were glossy, either with unshed tears or something else, he didn't know. "Are you afraid, _girl_?" he whispered.

Annabeth shook her head to the best of her ability. "I'm not- I'm not afraid," she whispered back. "I'm not afraid."

Percy could hear her heart beat - it was perfectly calm. There was a moment's indecision that flickered across his face before he took his hands away from her neck. She looked at him inquisitively, but he didn't grace her expression with a response. He was not going to kill her, he realized, come what may. She was interesting, too interesting.

_I'm not afraid._

Percy shivered.

~oOo~

It was a rainy night and Percy stood at the terrace with his eyes closed, allowing the cold water to hit him. There was a slight sound and Percy unfurled his wings, opening his eyes. She'd come after all. There wasn't need for any words - Percy knew what she'd been sent here for. Ulysial would kill the both of them, but he was ready for her. His talons made a _clickclack, clickclack, clickclack_ against the hard stone, and he could hear Ulysial's claws sinking into the roofing.

"You're late," Percy teased.

Ulysial gave a dark chuckle, saying, "I'd expected you to be more worried, Azazel."

"Why should I be?" he responded.

"Hmm, let's just say that you're about to find out," she purred.

Her powerful wings beat once to propel her towards him, and Percy turned around to take hold and spiral down with her. They clawed and raked at each other mid-flight, and Ulysial howled as his talons tore through her essence. He could feel a gash against his neck, but he was too focused to feel any pain. They grappled with one another, hurtling towards the ocean. Ulysial was strong, but Percy held her to prevent her escape.

She cried out as he tore off her arm and tossed it into the sea. Ulysial made to bite for his neck before he released his hold on her and threw her into the cliffside. He could see her nursing her wound as black blood dripped in a stream from her shoulder. "You don't stand a chance!" Ulysial snarled. "Even if you kill me, you'll never be able to hold your own against the others. You know as well as I do that you will only be able to last for so long. Soon Master will send Malfurion or one of the others, others strong enough to make you squeal."

Percy did his best to keep his expression calm. Deep inside, he knew that Ulysial was right - he didn't stand a chance against Malfurion or one of the higher angels, the Seraphim. They were Masters's right hand servants, filled with the raw energy of the universe. They could tear him and Annabeth apart with the same ease a toddler has shredding flower petals. "That doesn't concern me. Even we die in the end, Ulysial - only Master is immortal," he answered.

"You're a fool, Azazel," Ulysial spat, pointing a serrated claw at him. "You won't be able to save the girl. All you're doing is buying her a little time, nothing more, a mere blink of existence. Is that worth sacrificing your life for? Is that worth incurring Master's wrath?"

Percy vanished and reappeared next to Ulysial, taking her off guard. He seized her throat and slammed her into the cliffside. "You're pathetic: in love with a mortal girl? Tell me, does she know that you've only spared her because you revel in her suffering, her misery? Does she know that you're like a parasite, feeding off her depression? I don't feel any sympathy for the humans, Azazel, but even I have to admit that what you're doing is _cold_," she sneered.

"I'm tired of hearing you talk, Ulysial," he said before he snapped her neck and threw her body into the ocean beneath him.

~oOo~

He stumbled into the house that night, bleeding black blood. Annabeth raced towards him with a concerned expression etched across her face.

"You're hurt!" she cried, moving his hand away from his wound.

The wound was against his neck, and Annabeth had to staunch the bleeding with the help of a first aid kit in her room. Percy was surprised at how adept she was at dressing the wound and patching it up, but then he remembered that she was prone to self-harm and must have been accustomed to dealing with her injuries. Annabeth bit off a piece of gauze and wrapped it around his neck after adding a square patch of cotton directly against the wound.

"What happened?" she demanded after she finished.

"Ulysial came to attack me," he explained, trying to sound blase about it. The truth was that he was rattled. An archangel killing another was forbidden by Law, and the last time it had happened, Master had been furious. By the time Master was through, there was nothing left of the dissenter. Archangels never disobeyed him, and for good reason: he was impossible to kill because he was not a living being - he was a result.

"Why? I thought she was your friend?" Annabeth asked.

Percy snorted at this, saying, "Ulysial and I are not friends, trust me. We haven't gotten along for millennia, so I suppose this was all that tension finally coming to head. At least I won't have to listen to her smart mouth anymore."

Annabeth blinked with scarcely concealed disbelief. "_Y-You killed her_?" she cried.

"_She_ was trying to kill _me_!" Percy spat through gritted teeth. "Besides, _I_ was trying to save _your_ life! The least you can do is be grateful about it."

The girl stepped back and stood away from him, the glow of the moon behind her casting an eerie light on her. Percy looked at her form with an expression akin to wonder. Annabeth looked like a goddess silhouetted in the milky light of the moon. Her gray eyes flashed dangerously and for some strange reason, Percy felt more afraid looking at her now than he had during his confrontation with Ulysial.

"_I don't need saving_," Annabeth said, but Percy felt power washing from her in waves, threatening to drown him.

It was strange that a mortal held that much power. Percy's eyes widened when he realized that she honestly was not afraid of death. He had never before seen in a human being this level of indifference to Master and his nocturnal domain. It wasn't that she wanted to die, it was that she didn't care if she did. Even the ones that committed suicide were terrified in the seconds before he stole their souls from them, the immensity of their regret crushing in its intensity. But he sensed no such emotion from Annabeth.

"You think the fact that you don't fear of death makes you strong, but it doesn't; it makes you weak," Percy said, suddenly feeling irritated.

"I never said it made me strong, or that I was strong to begin with. Do I look strong to you?" Annabeth whispered, gesturing to herself.

Percy stood up so quickly that Annabeth was startled into taking a step back. "_Stop it_. Stop acting like you're weak, like you're brittle or that you're less than. You're alive. You've been given the greatest gift in the universe, something so powerful that even Master doesn't have power over it: _life._ And you're squandering it," he said.

"How would you know what it feels to be alive? You're not even a living thing! I don't know who or what you are, but don't think I don't know why you're sticking around," she spat. "You're just here because you enjoy seeing me squirm."

"I'm here because I want to be!" Percy yelled. "I'm here because I want to experience what it's like to be alive, to play music, to see stars. I've been nothing more than a tool since my genesis. All I do is steal living souls and deliver them from here to the Other Place. Do you think that's a good or meaningful existence? Annabeth, you don't realize how much choice you have, and that's what keeps me around because it fucking boggles my mind. You have so much freedom, so stop acting like you're trapped. Human beings are the freest creatures in the universe, but all you do is bitch and complain about your insignificance."

"I'm not miserable because I'm insignificant. Nothing is significant. I'm miserable because existence is painful, and I'm too frail to handle it," she cried.

"But you're not _weak_!" Percy sputtered.

Annabeth wore a grim expression and said, "Percy, you could snap my neck with a finger if you wanted to-"

"You think that makes me more powerful than you?" Percy interrupted. "Goddammit, Annabeth, you have the power to create. Compared to you, my powers, _even Master's_, mean nothing."

The girl sat down wearily on her bed. "What's the point of having all this power if I can't do anything with it? I'm just a girl," she whispered.

Percy walked towards her, his bleeding now slowly staunching. He sat down with her on the bed and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. "I don't know," Percy admitted. "I guess that's for you to figure out."

Annabeth wrapped her arms around him and buried herself into his chest. Percy was surprised when he felt a little moistness against his shirt. He was confused for a moment until Annabeth started shaking with the weight of her sobs. Percy felt horribly sad; the price of existence was steeper than he'd thought, and he wondered maybe if it wasn't for everyone.

~oOo~

Percy followed her to school the next week and enjoyed all her classes. Once or twice, he'd spot a cat staring at him from outside the window. That seemed funny to him - the humans couldn't see him but the cats could. Earth was strange indeed.

He could feel his own demise approaching like ominous thunder clouds in the distance. Percy imagined he could hear the dim roar from here, fancying himself premonitory. There would be an end to all this - there is always an end, just as there are always beginnings. He wondered who Master would send to finish the job. Unlike Annabeth, he didn't fear the prospect of death or whatever it was that happened to archangels. Percy hoped that Master didn't collect dead archangels as well; he'd been enslaved to him since eternity - Percy felt like he deserved to be somewhere beyond his reach.

During lunch, Annabeth stood up to throw away her food, and a boy tripped her. His entire table fell into raucous laughter, and Percy felt a curious sensation bubble up in him like a hot liquid. He allowed himself to become corporeal and punched the boy so hard that his jaw broke. That made everybody fall silent. Annabeth stared up at him with an incredulous expression on her face. He shrugged, saying, "They were being too noisy, and it was annoying me."

Annabeth had a stupid grin on her face the entire time they walked back home, and Percy didn't have the faintest idea why.

~oOo~

There was a feeling, sort of a disturbance deep in his essence, that alerted Percy of his impending doom. He knew that he wouldn't exist the next morning. He sat cross legged outside on the terrace railing for a long time. If he perished, he wanted to see the stars for one last time. They were especially bright that night as if they wanted to burn themselves into the mire of his memory. Percy swore that he would not forget them until the end.

Annabeth came outside after a while and stood there silently. There was a companionable silence that cocooned them, and Annabeth slid her warm palm into his own. Percy could feel her pulse through her finger tips like her life was a beat that fell in time with the rhythm of the universe. There was something so beautiful about that, something so beautiful about Annabeth, he mused.

"I feel like I'm standing at the edge of the universe right now, and that if I jumped, I'd fall right off," Percy murmured.

The blonde girl hummed contentedly. "Is that a good or bad thing?" she asked.

"Both," he said. "Both."

Annabeth nodded because it made sense. They didn't say anything again for a long while, until Percy said, "They're coming for me tonight, and they'll probably kill you too."

_"Are you afraid, girl?" _

_"I'm not- I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid."_

The girl did not answer, but Percy reasoned that the message was implicit. They sat like that for a long while until Percy sensed that it was time. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. There was a sound like thunder and when he opened his eyes all he saw was darkness. There was a searing pain and his essence began to dissipate. Like grains of sand fading into oblivion, Percy began to crumble.

All he could see was darkness.

In that moment, the memory of the stars burning like brightly lit torches in the sky lingered on the edge of his mind, escaping his comprehension. It was like having something you desperately needed to say right on the tip of your tongue, but still being unable to say it.

He could taste Annabeth's tears, wet and hot against his tongue as they rolled off her face. He made an effort to reach for her, to touch her one last time, and though he could see her alabaster skin reaching back, it wasn't enough.

But in the moments before Percy faded completely, he could see only one light, the light of all lights, and she was just so, so beautiful.


End file.
